CHAPTER 101: ONE MORE NIGHT
A short time later
Thomas Barrow's Bedroom
Maison de Bennett
"Someday we'll enjoy cigars at our own table in our own dining room," declared Thomas as he and Bates returned to the bedroom.
"As long as Anna doesn't catch us," cautioned Bates. The two men shared a chuckle. Bates stood by the window to catch the breeze. "Last Christmas, Lady Mary gave Anna a bottle of perfume, the kind of thing Anna would never buy for herself. She wears it only at night ... only for me." He closed his eyes. "When I block out the world, the scent finds its way to me, and I can imagine she's here."
Thomas watched silently as Bates conjured his soul mate. Eight years of marriage, and still Bates could behave as though he were a newlywed. Thomas was jealous of the desire Anna inspired in Bates, but the attendant anger had dissipated long ago. He was part of the family now, and family counted more than jealousy.
Bates opened his eyes. "I miss her, Pooh."
"It's only one more night, John."
"Only one more night ..."
"John ...?" began Thomas as he loosened his tie.
"Let me help you with that." Bates removed Thomas' tie and opened his collar.
"John ... you confessed something intimate to me."
Bates smiled that half smile of his. "Did I? When was that?"
"You know, John. Just now."
"Does that make you happy, little brother?"
"Yes."
"Good." Bates began unbuttoning Thomas' waistcoat and shirt. "This has been a long day for you. Are you tired?"
"No, I had a nap this afternoon after the doctor finished my cast. Don't you think it odd the way Lady Grantham packed me off to bed early?"
"She was only looking out for her loulou."
"John! I had better not hear that name bandied about in London!"
"Certainly not," replied Bates, refusing to take the bait. "Shall we change?"
"We may as well. And then a game of cards, I suppose." Thomas opened a drawer. "Where are my pyjamas?"
Bates peeked over Thomas' shoulder. "What do you mean? They're right there."
"Not my red pyjamas. My other pyjamas."
"You gave them to Brouette to wash. Remember?"
Thomas searched his mind. "But he gave them back, John. I distinctly remember putting them in this drawer!"
"It's your concussion, Pooh. You put away union suits and handkerchiefs, not pyjamas."
Thomas tried to envision the small stack of clothes Brouette had delivered, but his memory abandoned him. "You must be right." His mind pointed out a new problem. "But I can't pack without my pyjamas."
"Of course you can. Brouette promised them first thing in the morning." Bates headed for the dressing room. "I'm going to change. I suggest you do the same."
Thomas undressed slowly, limited as he was to the use of one hand. He missed Anna, too, and Timothy and Emilia. Babies changed so quickly, and he was keen to witness all he could of the children's metamorphoses. He pulled on his pyjamas, and his thoughts turned to Novello as they always did when he ran a hand over the red silk. Certainly that's what Novello intended.
"Dressed?" called Bates.
"Except for the buttons."
Bates came to the doorway in his pyjamas and posed. Thomas fell back with an audible gasp. Bates assumed an air of world-weariness. "Am I as magnificent as that?" he yawned.
Thomas' confusion gave way to delight. Bates was wearing emerald silk pyjamas with ornate frog fasteners. He turned to reveal the figure of a peacock with its tail feathers fanned across his back. "You look ..." Thomas was thinking handsome, but his mouth settled on, "... swank, John, truly swank. But they must have cost as much as one of your suits. I mean ..."
Bates laughed. "Don't worry, Pooh. They're borrowed."
"But why? It's only the two of us."
"Little brother, have you forgotten the promise I made you?"
"What promise? John, you don't mean the pyjama party?"
"Don't I?"
"But, John, I wasn't going to hold you to that."
"Why not? Don't you know that my word is my bond?" Bates buttoned Thomas' pyjama top. "There. Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?" Thomas glanced about the room to see if he had missed something.
"This room is no place for a party. We're headed somewhere better suited."
Thomas wondered what sort of fun Bates had improvised especially for him and felt wonderfully flattered.
"Wait!" Bates placed a hand firmly on the door to hold it shut. "This will never do." He paced about, inspecting Thomas, tapping his chin, and muttering to himself. "We need to smarten you up a bit."
"My pyjamas do seem rather dowdy next to yours."
"I have just the thing." Bates reached behind the dressing room door to retrieve a deep blue silk robe with kimono sleeves. Thomas tried to contain his excitement as he slipped on the robe. Bates arranged the robe's broad sash. "The blue brings out your eyes," he observed, batting his eyelashes.
Bates' silliness was infectious. Thomas felt giddy as he admired himself in the mirror. A ferocious gold dragon wound its way up the robe's back, and its head dropped over his shoulder, flaunting its long red tongue. "John ...?"
"Yes, little brother?"
"This is Brouette's doing, isn't it?"
"Undoubtedly."
"How did he find these so quickly?"
"He didn't have to find them. It seems that Lord Bennett wears this sort of thing for lounging. According to Brouette, these don't compare to the pyjamas Bennett keeps at his estate."
A thought entered Thomas' head. "You devil! You hid my other pyjamas, didn't you, so I'd wear the silk?"
"It's a distinct possibility."
Thomas was too elated to be cross. "What else do you have up your sleeve?"
Bates picked up Old Ram and headed for the door. "Let's see."
Bates held a finger to his lips as they descended the stairs and crossed the centre hall to the opposite stairs.
"What's up here," asked Thomas in a hushed tone. "More bedrooms?"
"Among other things," replied Bates. "Are you aware that Lord and Lady Bennett have six children?"
"That wasn't such a large family when they were young."
"No, but they were more fortunate than some. All their children survived and married. Now they have 15 grandchildren and 28 great-grandchildren."
"A dynasty!"
The two reached the landing, and Bates glanced at a piece of paper he'd taken with him. "We turn right."
The two men turned, and Thomas noted several doors on one side of the corridor but only one on the other. Bates led Thomas to the lone door. "Imagine what it's like when 28 children come to call on their elderly great-grandparents."
Thomas laughed. "That must be a bit much even for Lady Bennett."
"She insisted on a playroom when the house was designed so she'd have a place to corral them. A room in a separate wing, so the adults could have peace and quiet on their own side."
"So ... we can't be heard from here?"
"That's right." Bates gave two sharp knocks on the door with Old Ram.
